Midas Touch No!

The last month or so I've been re-reading some of my favorite psychoanalytical texts, which naturally include C.G. Jung's Psychology and Alchemy, one of my go-to books for years. And something weird happened to me, much weirder than usual.

You probably recall what alchemy is all about. The changing by chemical processes of other forms of matter into gold, tough to do. But Jung argued that the alchemists -- the good ones -- had other more profound motives, coming up with psychological gold, the coming to the fullness of the Self. It was the gold standard of self-help exercises.

Unfortunately, when I start messing with stuff like this, things happen. I hate to mention a few years ago when I was messing with sacred scriptures, a la Nebuchadnezzar, I went crazy and was literally a wild animal in the fields. Yeah. Well, this time someone forgot to warn me about the spirits of gold, so I've had a problem with turning things into gold. Anything at home I've touched, including all the TV remotes. Solid gold. I took a few of them to the jewelry store and now I can't change the channel. The TV's stuck on Jerry Springer's channel and I'm about sick of ads for The General Insurance.

The problem all started when I was concentrating very hard on my reading, reading with one eye shut. My theory is I was overloading one side of the brain, which Jung never thought of. To make matters worse, since I've been doing this for a few years, I was wearing my reading glasses, which only has one lens. It really magnifies things, overloading the brain that much faster.

And now, trying to deal with turning things into gold -- the Midas touch -- is tougher than you'd think. I wanted to go to the country and think it over, but I couldn't drive my car. And so forth. I can't have a gold car sitting in the driveway. They'll put me back in the home for crazy nuisances.

As I continued to mess with this stuff, then, I made some progress in controlling it. I discovered I could turn it off by saying "Midas touch no," and turn it on again with "Midas touch yes." It worked hit and miss the first few times, but with persistence, I got it so it was extremely reliable.

OK, this leads to the conundrum I'm in now. Having the Midas touch did wonders for my confidence. You can imagine. My confidence before was crap; now, so to speak, it's gold. I was operating with the gold standard of confidence. It seemed like there was nothing I couldn't do.

So guess what... Without having an account at Match.com or any other dating site, I met a woman, Edna, and came on to her with the utmost confidence, the way they like it. Smooth as silk, right there in the supermarket, "Hey baby," and my confident pitch, my chatter, my romantic spiel, my love patter, was such that it won the day ... and the lady. We started seeing each other. I had my ordinary hardtop car cut down to a convertible, and the little bits of hair I have on the sides of my head were flapping in the breeze. We talked of going to Mexico and sitting on the beach, writing our names in the sand, then standing back and daring the waves to efface them. (In Mexico you get up when you want, eat when you want; everything you do you do when you want. Why people escape to the U.S. is beyond me.)

The subject of gold came up, as in friendship rings, and I'd had the Midas touch set on NO for quite a while, allowing me to freely handle her, to the extent she would let me. I try to be subtle, you know, never having been a real wolf, a bear when it comes to the hands, and certainly I was brought up not to be boorish with women. My mom drilled that in my head, always pointing to Dad as the kind of gentleman I should be. And Dad did pretty damned good, out of all the women in the world getting my mother.

She -- Edna, my girlfriend -- was saying, "So you say 'Midas touch yes,' 'Midas touch no,' yes, no, yes, no, like that, and you're able to override C.G. Jung's teachings on alchemy and produce actual gold by mere touch." "Yes," I said, "Midas touch no, Midas touch yes, just like that." Catch my big mistake?

OK, she's so impressed by my power that now she's all hands, a fox, a wolf, boorish. But I'm leaning back, my eyes are rolled back so far in my head I can see the stars behind me. Naturally at this point I'm oblivious to any and all consequences. Given my excitement, of course I lunged ahead and was all over her, when-- Great God in Heaven! Infernal Spirits of a Christless Hell! What have I done? I looked down, aghast, and Edna was solid gold!

I raised my hands, looking at those two instruments of destruction with the impulse of searing hatred in my eyes. "You flaky sons of bitches!" I cried in anger. "No, wait, I have to get a grip. First things first, 'Midas touch no,'" turning it off.

But what was done was done... I didn't have a way to reverse the process. I didn't know what to do. Basically this is what's happened: I went from the sweetest, dirtiest girlfriend I've ever had to the biggest, nudest paperweight in the world. Fully nude except for an Egyptian tiara, worth her weight in gold, certainly, but at the same time worthless. You can't sell the transformed corpse of your girlfriend. They say.

And it's these flaky sons-of-bitchin' hands that did this! And my big mouth.

America: Golden Age To The Rescue

One of my favorite patriotic songs is the old chestnut, virtually a standard by now, "America The Beautiful." I love it so much I'm actually standing as I write this.

It's the one that tells of "spacious skies," "amber waves of grain," "purple mountain majesties," and "the fruited plain." It gives me a real urge to go outside more, and I would if it weren't for mosquitoes.

You might remember all the verses, including this great one:

O beautiful for patriot dream
That sees beyond the years
Thine alabaster cities gleam
Undimmed by human tears.

America! America!
God shed His grace on thee,
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea.

Over the years, I've been repulsed as I've heard critics tear into that verse. "Oh!" said they, wringing their hands as they hyperventilated in an overly literal and earnest stew, "That can't be right! That's blind idealism! Because we all know that our cities are not undimmed by human tears!" They would make the case that the cities were a cesspool of suffering, with nothing to recommend them. Then they'd spell it out: Crime, murder, strangulation, pickpockets, muggings, and sweatshops. With lots of human tears.

So, assuming there was some truth to that, the song told of something that was false. And so it went. Until now ... when, with the coming of THE GOLDEN AGE we can at long last now gladly announce, The song is true! There are no more human tears! It is the Golden Age!

Something happened, something apparently happened at a very deep level, to suddenly change the heart of man from evil to good. It's been prophesied, that's for sure, so there must have always been the potentiality for perfection in us. I believe there was! But the fact that it happened just like that, and mankind as a whole turned on a dime, in an instant, is the amazing part. And yet we know it's true.

Criminals gave up crime. Murderers gave up murder. The rich were happy to share with the poor. The poor took the rich under their wing and taught them at long last how life works. In this vast switch, of course the Republican party had to go under. So one day the earth cracked open and sucked only them down, bringing stability and happiness even to the political process. All countries willingly gave up their weapons. Even now, they're still working out the logistics for distributing all the plowshares. It's a great problem to have. Everyone's smiling!

I've been very happy with the switch. No more do I have to see "Ghost Hunter" shows on TV. With the removal of evil from the world, all bullshit became extinct. And besides that blessing, it's great to know that everyone in the world has all he or she needs for the best life possible. There's always someone to share, as the bounty overflows.

Tears are no more, pain, suffering, it's all in the past! Creative minds are busy editing old movies and books to take out all conflict, since we're already starting to forget what it was like. Everyone in the movies and books will be happy the whole time. No one will be portrayed doing anything to another character that is negative even in the slightest. Finally, I can go back to the movies, since I hate anything but perfect happiness. I still remember conflict. It always gave me a headache.

Rejoice, America, that your song is finally true. "Thine alabaster cities gleam." There's no more shadow, it's all bleached white, great and beautiful!

Why You'll Never See Me In Black

Probably all of you remember Johnny Cash being "The Man In Black." He wore black, he talked about his clothes, he wrote a book called that, and he had a hit song of the same name.

Now that he's gone, you don't hear much about it anymore. Which is why I want to reopen the subject for a new generation. Because now, thanks to the world's progress, there's no more reason to wear black. And if Johnny Cash were here today and able to look around at our progress, I'm sure he would agree, and purchase some lighter threads.

Remember his song, "Man In Black," in which he explained why he wore black? He sang:

I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down,
Livin' in the hopeless, hungry side of town,
I wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime,
But is there because he's a victim of the times.

Right off the bat we see where he's going. Back then there were folks who were called poor and beaten down, folks who were hopeless and hungry. So to address that, Johnny Cash wore black. Of course there was nothing about his clothing that told the story itself. He needed to spell it out for us, then whenever we'd see him in black, we'd know what was going on.

But hallelujah! There's no more need for black, now that everyone has enough for his daily needs, now that folks are no longer beaten down, and now that no one is hopeless or hungry. And the prisons are empty. Most of them have been torn down, there being no more need for them. If I felt like wearing black today, I'd have to come up with a whole new set of reasons, because with progress we've eliminated the old ones. That's great news!

I wear the black for those who never read,
Or listened to the words that Jesus said,
About the road to happiness through love and charity,
Why, you'd think He's talking straight to you and me.

Again, hallelujah! There's no one, except maybe newborn babies, who hasn't read or listened to the words of the Lord. All of us in this more enlightened time, thanks to the strides of progress of the last 30 years, have easy access and eager minds to imbibe the wisdom of Christ, as he speaks still about the road to happiness through love and charity. We've not only had the teachings, we've lived out their spirit. So ... no more need for black.

I wear it for the sick and lonely old,
For the reckless ones whose bad trip left them cold,
I wear the black in mournin' for the lives that could have been,
Each week we lose a hundred fine young men.

There's no more sick, there's no more old who are lonely. There's no more reckless ones taking bad trips. There's no more need to mourn the lives that could have been, because they're all living to a ripe old age, thank you very much, and enjoying their lives immensely. I'm thinking the last piece of the stanza had to do with guys who were fighting and dying in Vietnam. Of course that's long since over with, and because the world has found a way to live in peace, everything now is great. Black is definitely out!

Johnny Cash was, I hate to say it, the definition of pessimism. Read this depressing verse:

Well, there's things that never will be right I know,
And things need changin' everywhere you go,
But 'til we start to make a move to make a few things right,
You'll never see me wear a suit of white.

First, he thinks "there's things that never will be right," saying he knows that! Unfortunately he isn't with us today to eat his words! He didn't imagine the golden age that has opened up to us, where every evil has been dealt with and everything good, right, and proper is the order of the day. And yet, look at the last piece, he at least had the optimism to imagine that we might "start to make a move to make a few things right..." What?! "Start to make a move..." and "to make a few things right." It's not as optimistic as it sounded on first hearing, but only then -- only then -- would we, might we hope to see him wear a suit of white!

The big finale drives home his pessimism and his despair at having to always wear black:

Ah, I'd love to wear a rainbow every day,
And tell the world that everything's OK,
But I'll try to carry off a little darkness on my back,
'Till things are brighter, I'm the Man In Black.

He'd "love" to wear a rainbow everyday, he'd "love" to tell the world everything's OK, but, alas, he couldn't. If only he'd lived, he would have seen that day come, that day of rainbows, happiness, fulfillment, and righteousness. Instead, as he shuffled off the stage, he sounded a Suffering Servant/Christ-with-His-cross tone, "I'll try to carry off a little darkness on my back..."

You know what, that's a far out thought! Maybe after Johnny Cash's death, his atonement amounted to something in glory. Maybe that's how we got the switch, how everything started coming up roses. Johnny Cash's clothes saved the day. In glory, his having been clad in black ... saved the world! Stranger things have happened!

So, up there somewhere, today, Johnny Cash has to know the world's Golden Age is here. Injustice, heartache, and all forms of evil have been dealt with. Mankind is in harmony with his brother once and for all! And that's why you'll never see me in black!